A Black Secret
by Gueneviere
Summary: Remus is marrying Tonks. Dumbledore and the trio are hunting Horcruxes. Draco and his mother have joined the Order. The war is beggining, and what might be the Blacks' darkest secret is coming to light. And it may just be that it involves Hermione. HIATUS
1. To Marry Tonks

**1**

**TO MARRY TONKS**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

They were still at war so it was a secretive affair. On short notice, too – they just decided to get married a couple of days before attending Bill's wedding, and they only got to send the invitations a week before the celebration!

They weren't the only ones, though; the fear of dying came hand in hand with the fear of dying alone.

Thus, the union of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks was one of many.

Still, it was one people would remember for years to come. One that would be the anecdote old people told to their children and grandchildren on boring family reunions. One that would be immortalized in newspapers and magazines.

Needless to say, the Lupin-Tonks wedding was an eventful affair.

_

* * *

_

_Remus J. Lupin and Nymphadora A. Tonks_

_Have the pleasure of inviting you_

_To witness their union in Holy Matrimony_

_Next Saturday at 17:00 PM._

_P.S. This invitation will portkey you to the destination from that time onwards._

* * *

The wedding was held in the backyard of the lovely country house the couple had just bought and made their residence a few weeks before. It was a nice day; rather cloudy, but warm all the same. A soft breeze rocked the hanging fairy lights, which were now sleeping but would shine brightly when the sun fell. The white, silver and golden decorations – chosen by Remus, Andromeda Tonks and Mrs. Weasley (Tonks had been banished from the party planning after shattering the sample china) – were subject of much applause and congratulations. 

All in all, the ceremony had been quite lovely; the procession had taken place at sunset, making the whole affair rather mystical. The bride, dressed in an ethereal-looking wedding dress, looked quite elegant with her long hair braided and entwined with jasmines. The silver trimming of the skirt and the shimmering of the trail complimented her sparkly makeup quite nicely, making her look like a beautiful elf, a captivating fairy, or a charming princess – the groom couldn't decide which.

This, of course, after Tonks had been bodily threatened into wearing the wedding dress her mother had chosen – one that most definitely did not call for military-style combat boots – and coaxed by Mrs. Weasley into changing, for once, into her true form – brown hair and grey eyes. She also behaved quite nicely and managed to walk to the aisle tripping only once.

She couldn't help herself but greet her future husband with a soft and rather nervous "Wotcher, Remus," though, but that wasn't too bad.

No, too bad was when – in anxiety, mischievousness or pure malice, a weary Andromeda Tonks, did not know– the young woman had begun changing her appearance to that of the different people she knew. This quite distracted both the minister from his sermon, the groom from his vows, and a reasonable amount of people from their mental health.

The Headmaster hadn't been amused in seeing himself in a wedding dress. White didn't suit his complexion at all…

Remus hadn't been happy to declare his undying love and swear his devotion and fidelity to Mundungus Fletcher…

Winky wasn't at all pleased that Remus would exchange rings with her Dobby…

And a whole lot of people had cried in outrage as Lucius Malfoy was declared the new Mrs. Lupin.

The groom had gone through all of this with an understandable irritation, but he had been quiet and resigned; a perfect candidate for martyrdom, really.

It was all too much when he had been asked to kiss a blushing Severus Snape, though.

Tonks just laughed and kneeled down to french his unconscious husband. In her own form now, that is. The spiky fluorescent blue hair couldn't be helped. When she saw her mother's pained face, though, she sighed, grew her hair so that it grazed her shoulders, and changed it into a more adequate color.

Silver matched the decorations, after all.

And that was Nymphadora Tonks's – now Lupin – reprisal for being forced into a _traditional _(code for _boring_) wedding.

It was safe to say that she got the most _untraditional_ wedding her guests had ever attended too.

Except maybe for Firenze, but then centaurs didn't marry garden gnomes very often.

-

**_TBC_**

* * *

_**A/N**: Please review!!!_


	2. A Family Thing

**2**

**A FAMILY THING**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

Unconscious guests enervated, hysterical people pacified, and laughing individuals placated – or tied to a tree and _silencio'ed_ – the banquet begun. This was a quite smart thing to do, because pretty soon most of the congregation was too drunk to frown upon the bride's stunt. This, of course, had no relation whatsoever to Fred of George, or to the firewhisky Mrs. Weasley confiscated from them.

Remus just nodded at the not-quite-repentant twins, sighed, and proceeded to get smashed. Damned werewolf high-tolerance for alcohol.

Some of the guests remained sober, though.

There was Narcissa Malfoy who was there seeking to make peace with her sister Andromeda and niece Nymphadora, who she had only seen from afar. It had been quite a surprise for many when, at seeing her husband be proclaimed Remus's wife, Narcissa's serene aristocratic manner was disturbed by an obscene grin and a loud "You can keep him!"

Draco Malfoy had clamped a hand over her mouth, blushed deeply and muttered an embarrassed "Carry on," to the startled priest. Now, though, he followed his mother around like an obedient dog, avoiding the glares of those who didn't believe he could have repented after inviting Death Eaters to Hogwarts and trying to murder the Headmaster. He was feeling like getting quite drunk himself, but Narcissa had tied him up to her wrist and so he couldn't wander to the bar. She had disillusioned the leash, of course, but that didn't help Draco feel any less of a naughty poodle. His mother had said she thought he would get into mischief. Reality was she thought he would be murdered by a Weasley if caught on his own.

Albus Dumbledore, in the midst of an apparently heated conversation with a jumpy Severus Snape, sent him a knowing smile. Draco winced and sat himself besides Narcissa, who was apparently enjoying not having to act like a cold, sneering bitch and was chatting away with her sister. The boy was very bored since no one was talking to him, but he soon got company enough when all the insects in the garden decided his unnaturally white-blond locks were quite similar to a tasty gardenia. The Weasley twin with a wand on his hand and a smirk on his face might have had something to do with the bumblebees joining the party, though.

Narcissa, besides him, swatted a fly from his son's hair and sent the teen's hair a reproachful stare as she fixed her navy blue hat over her own darker blond hair and grumbled a hate-filled "Damn you, Lucius Malfoy." She then proceeded to unbury her recently acquired high-heeled Manolo Blahniks and adjust her elegant blue and white semi-formal Gucci dress – Lucius hadn't let her buy muggle designer items, so she had spent a rather sizable amount of his money in them since he had been thrown in jail. Andromeda smiled amusedly at her high-maintenance sister. She dressed in a simple but flattering dark grey dress-robe and wore her chestnut brown hair in a simple half up-do, but she managed to look like a queen nonetheless. Narcissa, next to her, felt as regal as a small girl and sighed. Andy had always possessed that air of elegance naturally, one that both Narcissa and Bellatrix had strived to imitate when young. Narcissa stared at her, remembering those days.

Andromeda was lost in her own thoughts, wishing her husband was still alive for their only daughter's marriage. This was still a happy affair though, and so she pushed her melancholic mood away and continued to survey the crowd through grey eyes.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley conversed with a few Aurors, friends of Tonks's. Charlie Weasley was boring his girlfriend of the week with some absurd anecdote about the reserve's new "adorable baby Peruvian Vipertooth." Hagrid listened attentively.

Near the buffet table, Fred poured some unidentified liquid in the fruit salad while George acted as a lookout. Percy stood by a cheery and quite drunk Penelope, glaring disapprovingly at the twins while gathering courage to go warn her mother against the desert.

Molly was chatting amiably about housing spells with her daughter. Well, Molly was chatting amiably about housing spells, Ginny was flipping through an old issue of Witch Weekly with an annoyed frown. Her silver and gold bridesmaid dress was so totally wrong for her hair color.

Luna and Neville sat in the table under an orchard, Luna telling Neville all about Crumple-Horned Snorkack, Neville nodding patiently every twenty seconds or so. Sitting by her grandson, Augusta Longbottom – who wasn't quite as patient – rolled her eyes and wondered if someone would notice if she casted a tiny, inoffensive _silencio_ on the blonde.

Meanwhile, Fleur Weasley sat at her own table making googly eyes at his brand new husband, who was eying a particular rare piece of steak himself. Remus, the owner of the aforementioned steak, sighed tiredly, took another _long_ sip of the confiscated firewhisky, and pushed the meat towards Bill. Then he ran to catch his bride, who had tripped over Draco's new elegant, _expensive_, muggle designer shoes.

Oh, yes, Draco was wearing muggle clothes too. He had made his peace with muggles once his mother had introduced him to Armani suits, Bulgary watches, Bentleys – so useless for a wizard, but so pretty to look at! – and McDonalds. Anyways, -

"Sorry there, cousin." Tonks smiled at the blond apologetically.

"Don't worry about it, Nymphadora." Draco replied as he gave her a strangled smile. Merlin, being polite was positively _painful_. Must get easier with time…

Tonks scrunched her nose. "Oh no, please call me Tonks, I can't stand that horrid name. Don't know what mum was smoking when she thought of it."

Andromeda rolled her eyes and didn't even bother to defend herself. She was surprised though, when Narcissa grinned at her teasingly and raised an eyebrow. Andromeda sent a meaningful stare to her younger sister. _You will not tell them about that one time_, it said.

Meanwhile, Draco was struggling with calling his cousin 'Tonks'. NO cousin of his could be called Tonks. She wasn't even a Tonks now, she was a Lupin! Did she expect for her to introduce her as 'Tonks' at dinner parties? "Hello there, Blaise, have you met my cousin Tonks?" Draco winced at the thought of his best friend's mocking laugh.

Remus, ever the perceptive one, patted the boy on the shoulder. "Why don't you call her Dora?" he proposed. Tonks raised a skeptical eyebrow at the werewolf, who lifted both hands in self-defense. "I call you Dora and your mother calls you Dora. It just seemed to be, you know, a family thing."

"_Yes_!" Draco cried a little more enthusiastically than he intended. People stared at him. He winced for what seemed like the thousandth time in the evening. "I-I mean, I _love_ family things. " He explained lamely, giving the older girl the most innocent look his Malfoy light grey eyes could muster…

…Which was not much.

Narcissa snorted. Malfoys were such pathetical actors. They never convince anyone, they just scare them with their money and power. Had they not a name and a wallet, they wouldn't be able to blackmail _Fudge_. How the lot of them got into Slytherin, was above her. She looked at her son pityingly. That damned Lucius…

Draco glared at his mother, knowing exactly what the pitying look meant. "Come on, _mum_, let's have a _family thing_. When was the last time we had one of those?" He inquired with sad, hopeful eyes, playing his never failing 'poor, unloved, son of a Death Eater' card. Which, was probably never failing because it was true.

Ah, well, Malfoy at least could manage the pity-act. Maybe because they are truly pitiful, Narcissa thought. She sighed at his son and faked a pensive look. "Well, we once shared a single house-elf, remember?" Tonks stared at the woman in blatant disbelief. Narcissa frowned. "What was her name again? Wonky?"

"Dwonky? Dwinke? Dwindy?" Draco said with an identical, slightly less believable thoughtful frown.

"No, no, Draco, I'm fairly sure it started with 'W'" Narcissa corrected with a small wave of her hand. Remus stared at both Malfoys with infinite pity.

"Wenty, Wandy? Ah, _Wendy_!"

"_Dora_!!!" Tonks cried and threw herself on her cousin. "You can call me Dora, Draco!"

Draco smiled feebly. "Thank you, _Dora_. That means a lot to me." He attempted a tearful look at which he failed horribly. The bride didn't notice, though, since she was tearful herself. Narcissa, though, rolled her eyes and damned –

"Honey, we've got to go cut the cake. _Now_," Remus whispered as he saw the Weasley twins approach the massive white, gold and silver treat, - Dobby's and Winky's wedding gift to the Lupins.

"Oh, right." Tonks said as she disentangled herself from Draco and dried her eyes with the skirt of her dress. "Well, we'll see you around, I guess." She turned to Andromeda, who sat there looking amused. "Mum, will you keep them company?" She gave her a hopeful look.

"Sure thing, _Dora_," Andromeda smirked and Narcissa and Draco smiled sweetly. Well, Narissa did. Draco… tried to.

Tonks stuck he tongue at her mother but skipped happily towards her wedding cake, thinking of ways of making her newfound cousin feel loved. Remus followed in a tow.

Draco turned to her mother and gave her a grateful look. Narcissa patted his knee and grinned at him. "Anytime, darling," she said cheerfully. Draco gulped, he knew what that glint on her mother's pale blue eyes meant, –

"You owe me, though."

– Yup.

"Good to know you've still got it, sis." Andromeda said lightly.

"Whatever do you mean, Andy dear?" Narcissa's tone was melodic and innocent, but she beamed back at the older woman, inwardly happy to receive her praise.

Andromeda just laughed and nodded at her sister. "You might want to train the boy better, though. Nymphadora is gullible but Remus almost didn't buy it." She sent Draco a sketch of a smirk and turned to a waitress to get another brandy.

Draco frowned. He thought Andromeda was the _nice_ Black sister. He looked to his mother, whose thin lips were pursed tight, eyes flaring in protest. _Oh, oh_.

He could feel a rant coming.

"Honestly, Andy!" she sprung from her seat in her agitation. People were staring again. Draco sighed, it seemed to him that all of what people had done and would do all day was stare at the Blacks. He was right, though how right he was, he wouldn't know for a while.

"It's not _my _fault!" His mother continued to whine to her amused sister, much to the entertainment of the crowd which was gathering around them, staring at the show while eating the wedding cake. Draco groaned and slapped his face with both hands. People were entertained now, but they wouldn't be after an hour of –

"It's that _damned_ Lucius Malfoy!!!" Narcissa cried pointing at Draco's hair, starting her forty-two minutes rant.

* * *

Draco stared at the silverware, wondering how long it would take to reach a principal artery with the dull butter knife. 

If only he could get his hands on the meat one… He wandered dreamily to it, stretched his hand and –

– He couldn't reach it, still leashed to his mother as he was.

* * *

The Slytherin raised the brandy to her lips and sipped elegantly. She congratulated herself mentally; with all of this drama, Nymphadora's stunts would be only one of the many queer occurrences at the Tonks-Lupin wedding. She eyed the happy couple who lay contently against each other under the furthest orchard tree in the large yard. Turning, she came face to face with her nephew. 

Draco stared at her with pained, pleading, _imploring _eyes.

Andromeda Tonks neé Black smiled at him.

Then she made her way to the buffet table, away from Narcissa's incessant ranting and Draco's disgraceful sobbing.

* * *

The oldest Black sister would get her wish, though. By the end of the day her daughter's ill-use of her metamorphamagus abilities would be the last thing on the wedding guests' minds. 

-

_**TBC**_


	3. Interview with the Headmaster

**3**

**INTERVIEW WITH THE HEADMASTER**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

As the most inattentive reader will have already noticed, despite the rather large attendance of the Lupins' wedding – large for a wedding celebrated in the midst of a war, anyways – there were some very important people absent.

Three very important people actually; by the names of Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

The Golden Trio skipping their friends' and fellow Order members' wedding would be quite rude on its own. Add to this the fact that Harry was Remus's best man, and Hermione was Tonks's maid of honor, and it was unforgivable. They did not intended to miss it, however – at least not completely – and they _had_ warned the bride and groom that they would probably not arrive in time for the ceremony. Hermione felt rather guilty; she and Tonks had grown fairly close this summer. This was due partly to Ginny being a moody brat and constantly complaining that she should be allowed to participate in the Order, and so Hermione found herself lacking female company. It was also due to rather fortuitous occurrences the night of Bill's and Fleur's wedding, when she and Tonks had shared a room at the Burrow and had ended up crying on each other's shoulder. That might have been because Hermione was so drunk, though – she wasn't one to cry on people's shoulders just because.

Yes, that wedding she had most definitely not been her usual self. In fact, that night both Harry and Ron had learned cool, collected, unattainable Hermione Granger wasn't half so cool and collected – and most definitely not so unattainable – when drunk. Indeed, the boys spent half the party chasing their honorary sister around the Burrow to stop her from throwing herself onto several boys, men, and a girl. The several boys, men – and the girl – weren't so unhappy with the situation, though, so it was an arduous task that more often than not ended in flying punches.

They couldn't quite punch fourteen-year-old Gabrielle Delacour, who leered at Hermione through half-veiled eyes as if she was a particularly delicious piece of meat… or a particularly beautiful Versace dress, who knows. But, they did manage to steer Hermione away from the bride's enthusiast little sister before their best friend did something quite illegal.

In Hermione's defense, it had looked as if Gabrielle was the one taking advantage of Hermione, and not the other way around.

In Harry's and Ron's defense, they had only stared at the girls for a minute before breaking them apart.

Maybe two minutes.

The real trouble, hadn't been Gabrielle, though, who had just scowled and glared at the boys, stared at Hermione - who by then was getting amorous with a bewildered but quite happier-than-he-should-have-been Kingsley – longingly, then stalked off cursing in French. She had looked like a little girl who had been deprived of her ice-cream – or some pretty boots, who knows.

No, Gabrielle had not been trouble. Well, maybe Mr. Delacour was less than amused with his daughter but since the boys had had to peel off Hermione from him too; he didn't make such a fuss. The real hitch that night had been when Harry laid a particularly nasty punch on a less than sober Charlie Weasley who suddenly hadn't seemed so intent in telling Hermione anecdotes of baby dragons.

Charlie, of course, punched back, and the two young men fought for a while until Harry realized Hermione had been taken by one of Fleur's cousins. He ran after them, but Charlie followed and so the evening ended with Harry sneaking upstairs to lock a now drowsy Hermione in her room, while Charlie and the blond Frenchman fought.

Ron had raised an eyebrow at his supposedly 'peace making' friend, especially since he hadn't been unhappy himself when Hermione had given _him_ a lap dance.

Enough said, Hermione had sworn off alcohol and was now looking forward to a nice, quiet, licour-free wedding party.

She would quite change her mind in a few hours.

Before any of that, though, the Golden Trio had a job to do. Random Death Eaters had been sighted the day before entering Borgin and Burkes, in Knockturn Alley. Now this was not uncommon, but Hermione and the boys feared the Death Eaters might be looking for something more dangerous than a cool-looking dark object.

Horcruxes came to mind.

And so, Snape and Dumbledore – the only other Order members that knew about Voldemort's less than whole soul – were informed about their concern as soon as Kingsley informed the Order about the sightings that same morning.

The Headmaster had wanted to send Snape to have a polite talk with the Mr. Borgin.

Hermione had disagreed heartily and had not been shy to say so; Snape wouldn't be either polite nor hold the pretense of politeness.

Harry and Ron had agreed with her. Snape had agreed with her too. Albus Dumbledore had sighed and rubbed his temples.

"You want to do it yourself," he had said wearily after a while. He wasn't asking a question but stating a fact.

"Of course," she had replied simply with a light smile. She wasn't requesting permission but informing her plans.

Dumbledore had sighed again. Snape and the boys had observed the exchange attentively. This was the first time Hermione was overstepping Dumbledore directly. She had indirectly done it before, of course, – many times, in fact – and the Order members were growing used to both her subtle _influence_ and her cleverly-worded _suggestions_. They didn't mind so much, mostly because her plans were usually both ingenious and successful. This, however, was quite new. The girl was _telling_ the Headmaster what they were going to do, and going _against_ what the man had already proposed.

Hermione stood up and walked gracefully to the Headmaster's bookcase, she fingered the spine of some of the oldest tomes, then regarded Dumbledore through her coffee-colored, feline eyes. "Don't sigh so much, Headmaster. You know I'm the best one for the job."

Her voice wasn't unkind, but it was still a discourteous thing to say. Something she wouldn't have dreamt of doing before her fifth year. But after the Department of Mysteries incident, they had all discovered Albus Dumbledore's humanity, and with humanity came mistakes and miscalculations. They weren't afraid to voice their thoughts, now. Well, Hermione was not afraid, – Ron and Harry were, but that didn't stop them.

The Headmaster turned to Hermione and smiled faintly, "I know you are, dear," he said softly and nodded his head. "I just –"

"–You just don't want to encourage my less than Gryffindoric traits." She finished.

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued.

"Yes." Dumbledore admitted quietly and held his head in his hands.

Harry, Ron and Snape were quite surprised by this turn of events, but both the young witch and the old wizard seemed to have forgotten their presence.

"I don't blame you, maybe it's the natural tendency of a Headmaster to protect his students, and playing these games is not as safe as remaining naïve and transparent." She said as if talking to herself. Dumbledore looked up to her and nodded.

She smiled sadly at him, but scanned him with calculative eyes, she took her seat again. "Yet, I don't think that's quite the reason. You're scared to encourage that part of myself that makes me so much like –"

"– I don't believe you would be capable of becoming like him, Hermione." Dumbledore said gruffly, as if offended.

Neither Harry nor Ron understood what they were talking about, and they sighed knowing Hermione would not tell them so as not to burden them – she and Dumbledore were alike in many aspects. Snape, however, understood, and was entranced by the discussion which he followed quietly, without making a sound.

Hermione nodded silently. "But one can still fear that what one believes to be unreal." She tilted her head and added, "You said you don't _believe _I could be like him. But you didn't say you _know_ I couldn't."

The Headmaster was startled, "I-I don't– "

"No, you _don't_ know, you _can't_ know – you are aware of your humanity, and you are scared you could make a mistake. That's fine, that's _good_. That's your job."

Another silence.

Another sigh.

"You are wise beyond your years, Miss Granger," he shook his head to himself, and took a lemon drop from his plate with a languid hand.

The sweet did not bring him its usual comfort, though.

Hermione stared at him for a minute.

"What does startle me is that you would think unsuitable for me, those same Slytherin qualities that are bestowed upon yourself."

Dumbledore choked on his lemon drop. Hermione smiled. "Moreover, you need me, you can't do this without me, and you know it."

The man did not answer, he just swallowed his lemon drop painfully.

"I won't let you down, Headmaster." She said softly and placed her hand upon his wrinkled one. "I might run for Minister of Magic when I'm older, but taking over the world just isn't what it used to be."

Snape snorted at the joke. Harry and Ron opened their eyes wide, just now realizing of _whom_ Dumbledore feared their _best friend_ would turn into.

The old man met Hermione's frank stare and thought that for once, itbore some resemblance to that of the girl she was years ago. He was not so naïve as to pretend she had never had a strong Slytherin streak – that had been evident from the start. War, however, had brought it out, made it surface, almost drowning the Gryffindor in her. She was still brave; of course she was otherwise she wouldn't be here in the first place. But gone from sight was the impulsiveness, the know-it-all attitude, the vulnerability; he knew it must all be under lock and key somewhere, and he fervently hoped she would hang on to some of her innocence. Life was very hard without it; Merlin knows he could attest that.

"I'll try to, Headmaster," Hermione said with a small smile as she stood up. "Come along boys, we have to tell Remus we'll be late this evening."

Harry and Ron followed her out of the room, sending worried glances at the shocked Headmaster who had just realized both that eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger was a Legimens, and that she was a strong enough Legimens to read his heavily-guarded psyche.

"Do not fret, Albus, it is not so heavily-guarded; must be the effects of being shocked out of your mind. Merlin knows it does not happen often."

The words of the Potions Master offered Albus Dumbledore little comfort.

"I bet _she_ was able to teach Harry some decent degree of Occlumency." The old wizard snapped irritably.

Snape took it with humor. He chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm plenty sure Potter would learn anything she taught him."

Dumbledore gave the man a reproachful glare, but couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Severus, you're awful." He stated, shaking his head.

"Quite." The black-haired man assured him with a proud smirk. He walked towards the door but turned as he held it open.

"Tonight," Snape said, eyes shining in anticipation. "Tonight you'll see I'm right about Hermione Granger."

"After today, I'm much more inclined to believe that you are." Dumbledore sighed tiredly. "Fantastic as it may sound." Dumbledore answered tiredly before he fearfully picked up another lemon drop.

From his portrait, Phineas Nigellus frowned pensively.

-

**_TBC_**


	4. The Best Deal of his Life

**4**

**THE BEST DEAL OF HIS LIFE**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

The trio's appointment with Mr. Borgin took place that afternoon, after a quick lunch and some planning.

Well, they didn't really get an _appointment_ so much that they burst in uninvited, locked the door and closed the windowsills, then forced the shop owner to the back of the store.

Just when Ron had pushed the man onto an old chair, Hermione glided in and sat gracefully across Mr. Borgin, a small coffee table between them. Harry and Ron took their places at Hermione's right and left side, acting much like Crabbe and Goyle. Harry did his best not to grin; this was so much like those muggle action movies the friends saw some evenings on TV after a particularly tiresome day of training.

Mr. Borgin, though, wasn't half as amused. He was plenty used to this kind of treatment coming from angry Death Eaters, but _never_ from the light side. It was particularly embarrassing that the abuse came from the light side's _teenage_ brigade – Golden Trio or not, they were still seventeen year olds!

Hermione crossed her legs daintily and turned to the older man as if he had called her in for tea. Her dark eyes, however, regarded him with a coldness and calculation he wouldn't have expected from a Gryffindor. The stare was purely to make him nervous, since Hermione had already coldly calculated everything that needed to be coldly calculated – but then, Mr. Borgin didn't know this.

The old man eyed the two boys standing by the scary girl, and wondered if he would be able to take down both of them while holding the witch against him –

"No, I don't suppose you would, Mr. Borgin," the girl sent him a charismatic smile that he would have deemed as beautiful had she not been so frightening right now.

Mr. Borgin winced.

– A _Legimens_. Damn it.

"Settle down, Mr. Borgin, Ron and Harry won't hurt you," she assured him sincerely.

The shop owner was a Slytherin, however, and he didn't fail to notice the girl hadn't said _she_ wouldn't hurt him. If she was a Legimens he wasn't going to underestimate her magical talent, especially since Miss Granger couldn't have had won her reputation as smartest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw without knowing a few nasty hexes.

Hermione laughed out loud; it was an honest laugh but honesty didn't infuse it with warmth. The man shivered as he was suddenly reminded of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ron and Harry were quite used to this war queen, Valkyria-like persona which Hermione often used. Nevertheless, they were always a little disconcerted at how their warm, bright, free-the-house-elfs best friend could put up this act so convincingly.

Well, years ago, Harry thought it an act; as of late, however, he was getting the feeling it wasn't so much of an act as an integral part of her personality. One that Harry, having a (admittedly quite watered-down) Slytherin side of his own, could sort of understand.

The young man didn't have a problem with this awakened feature of Hermione's; he knew it was necessary and – unlike the Headmaster – he didn't fear the girl would turn into some sot of egomaniacal evil Dark Lady, but he _was_ concerned she would end up bitter and cynical.

Sort of like Snape.

_Ugh, there's an ugly thought._

"Mr. Borgin, we are here to make a few _suggestions_," Harry winced at how much like Umbridge she sounded and Hermione smirked a smirk he was quite sure it was directed to him rather than to the shop owner. He made a mental note of working harder on his Occlumency; there were quite a few things in his head it just wouldn't do for his best friend to find.

"Now, you are a smart man, so you know that when I say _suggestions_ I mean _demands_," Hermione continued, twisting a strand of light honey-brown hair around her index finger. "_However_, we don't have a tacky tattoo on our left forearms, and therefore we're willing to give you something in exchange. A fair trade, Mr. Borgin; you'll _want_ to help us by the end of this meeting – and not because I'm an artful manipulator, but because this is _the best deal of your life_."

The shopkeeper dared to raise a skeptical eyebrow and even snort a little.

Then he closed his eyes and waited for the surely coming _crucio_.

It didn't come, though.

He opened an eye and saw Hermione Granger smiling at him.

"We're not Death Eaters, Mr. Borgin and I wasn't kidding when I said you'll _want_ to help us." She said, still smiling at him as if he were a very silly man.

He sighed. Well, maybe this girl wasn't that bad. Perhaps he would just listen to their deal.

Plus, Miss Granger had just conjured two cups of tea and a plate of quite delicious-looking chocolate cookies – how did she know he loved chocolate cookies, anyways?

And over tea and cookies, they got Mr. Borgin to agree to search for any trinkets or objects belonging to the Four Founders, along as keeping an eye out for those _wanting_ to acquire such items. In exchange, Mr. Borgin would basically not be thrown into Azkaban on the spot, since the Order had enough evidence to prove the man had been selling weapons and such to known Death Eaters. However, as an added bonus, he would be _allowed_ to keep on selling products to the dark side and be fully pardoned on these future crimes as long as he periodically gave in a detailed report on which these products were, and what did they do.

Mr. Borgin, for the first time in his life being offered the possibility of keeping both his freedom _and_ his business, jumped at the chance. He readily signed a magical contract conjured by Hermione – she had written it over lunch – and received one of a set of four sickles enchanted with the _Protean_ charm, much like the galleons used by the DA. That way, when he had news for them, Hermione, Ron and Harry would know. Mr. Borgin was quite happy to know he would only have to deal with the trio and not with the rest of the Order, who he felt wouldn't be so agreeable.

Hermione had then shook his hand, smiling so charmingly at him that Mr. Borgin felt he was investing money on the bank stocks rather than being blackmailed into spying. He smiled back.

Quite suddenly, he realized her dark chocolate eyes were as cold and calculating as they were before. No matter how beautiful her face, melodious her voice, or charming her smile, she was still dangerous. Perhaps even more so because one tended to forget she was.

Hermione's smile slipped a bit as she stared at him serenely, hands still clasped.

"I trust that both parties will find this business quite beneficial, Mr. Borgin," she said evenly, eying him strangely. His Slytherin brain worked to identify the look. It was… it was as if he were something useful but not entirely indispensable… it was, _oh_, she regarded him as one regards an insect that will live as long as it doesn't become bothersome.

Hermione gave him a little smirk and he knew he had gotten it right. Damn.

"You're a smart man," She said amusedly, her eyes icy and her smile cold, chilling him the bone. He blinked and the darkness was gone, in its place was once again that sweet smile. "Have a nice day, Mr. Borgin," she said musically as she turned around and exited the store, unlocking the front door with a silent, swift wave of her wand.

Ron and Harry nodded at the white-faced shopkeeper and followed the witch out into the street.

* * *

Mr. Borgin sat down again, staring in intently at his right hand.

This was definitely a great deal for him.

Of course it was.

Maybe the best deal of his life!

He still felt like he had just sold his soul to the devil, though.

* * *

That night, as he lay on his bed, Mr. Borgin remembered a young man, who many years ago had visited him quite regularly, eventually becoming his employee.

This young man had also had a beautiful face, a melodious voice and a charming smile.

This young man had also had cold, calculating eyes.

This young man had also been dangerous.

This young man had also been interested in items belonging to the Four Founders.

This young man's name was Tom Riddle.

That young man hadn't bothered with a contract though. And Tom Riddle had most definitely not offered him a clean criminal record.

Mr. Borgin smiled sleepily and made a mental note to contact Miss Granger as soon as he remembered the items he had sold him. He would have to look into his records, which of course he kept; a Slytherin would never sell dangerous items to dangerous people without keeping track of them. Especially if said dangerous people had worked for him.

Yes, he would do just that.

If he was to sell his soul to a devil, he would do so to the one that offered him the highest price.

Plus, Tom Riddle's face was not so beautiful, his voice so melodious, or his smile so charming these days.

-

_**TBC**_

* * *

_**A/N**: Just wanted to thank everyone who has read or reviewed this fic! Please tell me what you like, what you hate, and what you don't understand. It would help a lot! On another subject, I wanted to warn you that this fic will most probably not follow the canon Black family tree (which you can see in the Harry Potter Lexicon). I will be adding new characters into it, probably changing a few names, and I haven't decided yet if I'm going to keep Walburga Black neé Black a neé Black. Plus, I'm making Andromeda the oldest Black sister when she actually comes after Bella. _

_Anyways, that's that._

_Now, you would make me very happy if you pressed the 'submit a review' button!_


	5. Meet the Golden Trio

**5**

**MEET THE GOLDEN TRIO**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

The Golden Trio's Headquarters was tastefully decorated little flat in a nice neighborhood of muggle London. It had been the best friends' center of operations for the whole summer, and they were planning on living there until the remaining Horcruxes were found and destroyed. The location was quite convenient; there was a deli down the street, a bookstore down the corner, a Blockbuster a few streets away, and it was quite near the Leaky Cauldron's entrance to the magical world.

It also had a password-demanding floo system and coded-apparition wards that only allowed Dumbledore, Snape and the trio to pass through.

Moreover, now that Hermione had combined a couple of spells to make electrical equipment tolerate magical waves, the flat was also equipped with muggle technology; a laundry machine, a fridge, a kitchen, a phone, a TV, and a DVD – the last two which Ron had learned to love, often making him wonder how on earth he had managed to live without them for seventeen years.

Recently, though, Hermione had also bought cell phones for the trio, which was a smart move since owls can be a little slow in case of emergencies. Ron was still having trouble remembering which button did what, but Harry had written it down and pasted it on the back of the phone.

Luckily the redhead hadn't notice the weird stares muggles gave them in the streets.

Hermione thought some of the Order members should learn to use them too, but she honestly couldn't see Snape agreeing to touch anything that did not run on magic, and the idea of Dumbledore chatting on a cell phone was laughable.

Nevertheless she was at least planning on leaving one in Grimmauld Place – to prevent any other disaster like the one of the Department of Mysteries – and of convincing Tonks and Kingsley to take one with them always so that Aurors could be called swiftly in case of an attack. The girl had told this to her friends the night before, and had said she was pretty sure Tonks would agree, but didn't know about Kingsley.

Ron had laughed and said that after Bill's wedding, Kingsley would probably lick her shoes if she asked him to.

Hermione had blushed and smacked Ron on the head, but made a mental note to bat her eyes at him tonight.

Harry, – who was no Legimens but knew what that calculative gleam in his best friend's eyes meant – had glared at Ron angrily.

Anyways, besides the commodities of both magic and technology, the flat was small, but quite comfortable. It had a small modern kitchen, a living room, a balcony, and two bedrooms. The only tiny, little, minuscule inconvenience –

– It had one bathroom.

* * *

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" Hermione shrieked as she knocked on the door of the bathroom. 

The mirror Harry was combing his hair in front of huffed in indignation as it trembled dangerously.

Harry paid no mind, the occurrence wasn't unusual.

"GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM THIS INSTANT!"

He put his shoes on.

"RON! I'M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!"

Harry poured some of the Polo cologne Hermione had given him for his birthday last year.

"I'M GOING TO IMPERIO SNAPE AND MAKE HIM KISS YOU!"

Now, Harry liked Ron and wouldn't want to doom him to such a horrible fate, so he ran out the room and approached an irate Hermione cautiously.

"Let me try, 'Mione, you go do your makeup or something." He told her calmly.

Hermione turned and eyed him dangerously. Only then did Harry notice she was wearing nothing but knickers and one of his Quidditch jerseys.

Or at least he supposed she had knickers under his Quidditch jersey.

He blushed, focused on his Occlumency, and tried to look away. Keyword: tried.

"I _would_, but my makeup is in the _bathroom_," she explained slowly as if he were mentally retarded. "which _SOMEONE_ is HOGGING!" She yelled, turning to the door.

Harry sighed. Usually, they would just _alohomora_ the lock and tear Ron away from whatever he was doing. However, they had charmed the flat's doors so that they could be magically locked but not opened. The idea was that Death Eaters wouldn't be able to kill them in their sleep for they would have to blow the door down, awaking them. Well, maybe not awaking Ron but he slept with Harry so he should be safe.

Anyways, it was extremely unlikely that the dark side would get wind of their location since it was under the _Fidelius_ charm, and their safe keeper was the last person Voldemort would think of.

Dolohov had been captured by the Order, _borrowed_ by the trio, _imperio_'ed by Harry through the spell casting, thoroughly _obliviated_ by Hermione, and then thrown into Azkaban. A talented Legimens might be able to notice the obliviation, but not _what_ was obliviated.

It meant the Golden Trio couldn't invite their friends over for tea, but it also meant they were safe from 'wormtailing' (Ron's name).

"That's it." Hermione whispered seriously and violently kicked the door open.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Harry couldn't decide which; Hermione _was_ wearing knickers under his Quidditch jersey.

_Beautiful, white, lacy, boy short knickers._

Harry and Hermione entered the bathroom to see a half-clothed Ronald Weasley (trousers on, thank god) holding in his hand what looked like… _makeup?_

"Ron, er, I don't think Remus would appreciate it if you went to his wedding party wearing sparkly purple eye shadow," Harry stated uncomfortably.

"Is that what this is?" Ron groaned as he read the label of the product. "Damn."

"Ron, do you mind telling me _why_ you're looking through my makeup bag in the first place?" Hermione asked in a saccharinely sweet voice.

"Well, umm…" Ron blushed and ran a hand through his hair, – a mannerism acquired from Harry – then smiled at his best friends sheepishly. "You see, last night, you know, when Harry and I went to Remus's bachelor party at the Three Broomsticks, well, I sort of ran into this girl on my way to the bathroom, and we sort of talked, and –"

Hermione raised her wand to his neck. Ron gulped nervously, it hadn't been too long since he and Hermione had terminated their brief, unfortunate attempt of a relationship, but they had parted on pretty good terms – in fact, they were better friends that they had been before! He hadn't thought she would be so mad, in fact –

"Where?" Hermione asked in a bored tone. Ron frowned in confusion.

"The hickey, Ron," Harry said exasperatedly.

"_OH_," comprehension dawned on Ron's face and he grinned at Hermione. "Right here, 'Mione," he said pointing to a large purple hickey under his right ear. Hermione muttered a healing charm.

"Bloody vampire, that girl," he commented with a smile as he leant back on the wall. Hermione growled, her eyes flashing a warning.

"Well, her blood supply will meet a sad demise if you don't GET OUT OF HERE!!!"

Both boys ran away in fright, the door closing behind them with a loud bang.

Ron groaned and threw himself on the couch. "I bet she has a banshee relative," he remarked, nodding at the bathroom.

"Maybe," Harry answered noncommittally as his best friend turned the TV on, "but she must have been an unnaturally beautiful banshee," he whispered to himself.

* * *

Exactly thirty-four minutes later, the Golden Trio was portkeyed onto the Lupins' terrace. 

Ron looked very handsome in his dark blue pants and sky blue chemise, and Harry was a sight in his black trousers and wine-colored polo shirt. His hair was only slightly less messy than usual due to a hair charm which didn't seem to have been designed to battle the Potter hair.

Hermione, of course, looked quite gorgeous in her white sundress, which since it was late and not sunny at all, had to be accompanied by a strong warming charm. She also wore a pair of strappy golden sandals, a thin golden belt, and her hair pined up and entwined with little charmed-golden lilies.

Harry thought she looked like a Greek goddess; Artemisa the Huntress, perhaps.

The men at the party thought she looked hot.

"And the trio has arrived!" cried Remus, who, by now was slightly inebriated but not as much as he would have liked – Dobby and Winky had gotten into a fight and those house-elf shrills shrieks had not been pleasant.

"Sorry we're late, Remus," Hermione apologized; beaming at the older man, "Oh, Merlin, congratulations!" she cried and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, Hermione," He said as he hugged her back. "Quite honestly, I wish I had been late myself but, you know, being the groom at all…" He trailed off as he leant back on the banister unsteadily, and took another gulp of his rather large firewhisky shot.

Harry sniffed him and frowned. "Are you _drunk_?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Not as much as I wish I was," he mumbled miserably, "definitely not enough to block Winky's high-pitched voice."

"Remus John Lupin, you should be ashamed of yourself!" Hermione huffed, hands on her waist.

Ron and Harry snorted, Remus smiled at her and laughed.

"Says the girl that gave me a lap dance on Bill's wedding." He laughed again.

Yeah, Harry hadn't been the only one.

Hermione blushed deeply, and the Boy-Who-Lived suddenly thought she looked adorably vulnerable. She didn't look vulnerable often these days.

"I-I…"

Remus waved at her dismissingly, still grinning. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I can't say I suffered too much." He smirked a bit, looking eerily like Sirius for a moment. Harry was too preoccupied glaring at the man to notice, though.

Hermione blushed some more and Ron proceeded to removed the liquor from his former Professor's hands. "I don't think you should finish that, Remus."

Hermione nodded earnestly, "Alcohol does evil things to people; you can join me in my abstinence."

Remus blinked dumbly, trying to remember what abstinence meant – oh, right.

He shrugged. "I will if you get Narcissa to shut up about how Lucius never folded his underwear," he promised sincerely.

It was the Golden Trio's turn to blink.

"Narcissa, as in Narcissa Malfoy?" Harry enquired slowly.

"Yup, the one and only!" Remus waved his hand in some vague direction. "She's off there, somewhere, boring Dora and Andromeda to tears. And I think Draco was attempting to commit suicide with the silver wear."

"Draco, as in 'the Amazing Bouncing Ferret' Malfoy?" Ron questioned wide-eyed.

"I knew they had joined the Order but I didn't think they were invited to your wedding," Hermione said, frowning pensively.

"Oh, yes. Narcissa and Andromeda were all about re-bonding and bringing the Black family together, and whatnot." Remus commented languidly. "But up to now all Narcissa has done is bitch about Lucius and his hair, and how he once told her he was prettier than her…"

Hermione giggled and Remus sent her a death glare. "Don't you dare to laugh, Hermione, it was _painful_." He moaned and rested his head on his hands. "And I have to go back soon, or Dora will skin me alive."

"Well, good luck with that." Harry chuckled, patting the man on the shoulder. Remus lifted his head and glared at the boy, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Oh no, _Potter_." He growled. "_You_ are coming with me! You're my goddamned _best man_ and yet you have suffered none of this mess!"

"Remus, I'm sure Harry didn't mean to–"

"Shut up, Granger, you're the bloody _maid of honor_. You're coming too." Remus grabbed Harry by the forearm and Hermione but the wrist and pulled them towards the buffet table.

The witch turned to whisper to a grinning Ron.

"Ron Weasley, you will come with us or I'll tell your mother about what I saw you doing in the bathroom a week ago!"

Ron followed promptly.

The slightly drunk werewolf and the sulky teenagers approached the last remnants of the Black family resignedly. There were all sitting in the main table.

Narcissa was chatting away happily to no one in particular – something about alpaca fur.

Draco was banging his head against the wooden surface every few seconds.

Andromeda seemed to be sleeping with her eyes open – as a child, she had trained herself to be able to ignore her younger sister's banter.

Tonks was drinking firewhisky and changing the color of her hair every time Draco banged his head against the table. She brightened up when she saw them coming.

Harry noticed Snape tap Dumbledore's shoulder, nod in their way, and both of them swiftly drop their conversation with Minerva McGonagall and Pomona Sprout to walk warily in their general direction.

_They must want to know how the Mr. Borgin affair went_, he decided.

Tonks rose from her seat and smiled, "Harry, Ron, Hermione! Welcome!" she cried, interrupting Narcissa non stop chitchat. "Mum, Narcissa, meet the Golden Trio."

Draco raised his head to stare at them, sighed, and then continued to bang his head against the table.

Andromeda was awakened by a shove from Tonks and rose, a little disoriented.

Narcissa stood up next to her sister, smiling brightly, as if they were her favorite rock stars. She turned to her niece.

"They were there when Lucius got arrested, right?" she asked Tonks giddily. At the woman's nod, she turned to them a maniacal grin on her face.

Andromeda, now fully woken up, took her champagne glass and approached them along with Narcissa. The two women smiled, nodded and shook hands first with Ron, then with Harry, then –

– Then stopped cold.

Narcissa's outstretched flew rapidly to her open mouth, her pale blue eyes threatening with popping from their sockets.

Andromeda dropped her champagne glass, which crashed on the grass, the dirt rapidly absorbing the amber liquid.

Draco, noticing the blissful silence, raised his head to see what had caused it. His mother and his aunt were staring at Granger as though she had grown another head. Granger had most definitely not, and was looking quite hot in that short white sundress. Maybe he would date her now that they were on the same side. She was undeniably better looking than Pansy. And quieter. Always a plus.

Tonks stared from the Black sisters to Hermione, then back at the Black sisters. Then she turned to Remus, who shrugged and picked up another glass of firewhisky, getting himself ready for the next disaster of his hellish wedding.

Some people – Snape and the Headmaster among them – started to gather around the two shell-shocked women, probably wondering if there was going to be any more soap-opera drama.

There was.

Just then, Narcissa Malfoy said the last thing Hermione would have expected her to say when being introduced to her; what she would have expected her to say went along the general lines of "_Mudblood_", and most definitely was not –

– "_Mum_?" The blonde asked timidly, her voice small.

-

**_TBC_**

* * *

_**A/N** : I am so evil. Muahaha! _

_**PLEASE REVIEW!**_


	6. Snape was Right

**6**

**SNAPE WAS RIGHT**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

Silence ensued. 

Draco Malfoy looked around anxiously; people were staring at them as if they were insane.

Maybe they were.

Draco decided to take action.

He laughed nervously, but that didn't seem to fix things.

Damn.

_Okay, then. Courage, Draco; think Gryffindor._

He rose from his seat and bravely approached his mother.

"M-mother, that's Granger; Hermione Granger…" he clarified tentatively. At his mother's lack of reaction, he continued, "Muggleborn, smartest witch of her age, beats me in school every year – Father yelled at me about it, remember?"

Narcissa, white-faced and wide-eyed, turned to her sister – who seemed to be having trouble breathing – and raised one pale arm to point at Hermione, as if she expected Andromeda to give her some sort of explanation for the young girl's existence.

Hermione stared at the women confusedly, looked at Draco, – who shrugged helplessly – then took a step back from the insane people and bumped into Harry, who took her hand in his. She rested her weight against the boy.

Said boy lacked the self control to stop himself from grinning a little.

Snape and Dumbledore walked up to them rapidly, and Snape proceeded to look at the Black sisters, then at Hermione, then back at the Black sisters.

Yeah, everybody seemed to be doing that.

However, everybody else's looks were _expectant_.

Snape's was _studious_ –he examined the three females with reflective frown.

It was then that Narcissa's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fainted theatrically on Draco's arms. The young boy gasped in surprise and struggled with the dead weight, landing rather pathetically on the dirt.

So not cool.

The guests pushed against each other in their struggle to get a better peek at the unconscious Lady Malfoy.

This wedding was going to provide enough gossip material for the rest of the year!

Snape turned to the Headmaster.

He was _grinning_.

"I _told_ you it was her!" Snape cried in victory, exasperation, and _giddiness_.

All Dumbledore did was study Hermione through twink-less blue eyes.

"You told him I was _who_?" Hermione demanded icily, tearing herself from a now sulking Harry to approach to the Potions Master.

Her usually effective tone, however, was lost on Snape, who paid her no mind; he seemed too excited.

_Excited_?

Ron rubbed his eyes.

Yep. That mad glint in was definitely excitement.

And Merlin did that grin look wrong on his face.

"I told you! I told you!" He said in a singsong voice bouncing slightly on his feet.

Scary that.

"Yes, well, Seve–"

"But _what did you say_!?"

"Really, now, Se–"

"'_That's not possible, Severus_' you said! '_She has been Harry's best friend for six years, Severus_'! '_We would have realized if it was her before now, Severus_'!'"

Funnily enough, Snape made a rather good impression of Dumbledore.

A rather pompous and high-pitched Dumbledore, but still a pretty decent approximation.

With all of these theatrical impersonations, though, every single wedding guest – who wasn't already there – rapidly approached the spectacle.

They all continued to gawk at them.

Well, it wasn't everyday that the icy Potions Master yelled at the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

_Excitedly_, for that matter.

Draco was having a hard time coming to terms with this; he had _never_ seen his godfather excited before. Not _even_ when Lucius had tripped with his own cane and broken a tooth in front of the rest of the School Governors.

Dumbledore scowled at Snape.

_Dumbledore scowled at someone?_

Apparently so.

"We didn't even know for sure Allegra was _alive_. Regulus could have easily been–"

"He wouldn't have _lied_, Albus! He _loved_ Callista!" Snape said, sounding anxious and offended.

The crowd gasped, but Hermione didn't react; behind calculative dark eyes her mind was working fast.

_Regulus? Regulus Black? As in Sirius's _Death Eater _brother Regulus Black?_

_Did he actually _love_ someone? _

_This Callista chick, apparently?_

_And who the hell was this _Allegra_ girl, anyways?_

_Most importantly, what did all of this have to do with _her?

Hermione blinked, eyes glinting in confusion. He shook her head violently, as if her thoughts would thus rearrange themselves and give her a clue of what was going on.

All that happened though was that her chignon came undone and some of her long, wavy honey-brown tresses now fell messily down her back.

Harry walked up to her and took her hand back into his own; his body shielding her partly from 'Insane Snape', whom he held responsible for his best friend's distress.

Hermione barely noticed, as she was still trying to piece together the conversation in order to come up with a few comforting theories.

Damn, she hated not knowing stuff.

Dumbledore, staring Snape straight in the eye, jumped for the kill. "He _loved_ her, right Severus? Is that's why he _killed_ her and her husband, then? His own _cousin_!"

Snape looked livid.

Hermione frowned.

_Capitulating: Regulus Black was in love with this girl Callista who he killed along with her husband, who was Regulus' cousin…_

_But, Regulus didn't _have_ a male cousin, did he?_

_Sirius had told them their mother was neé Black. _

_Disgusting that._

_Anyways, Andromeda, Narcissa and Bellatrix were the daughters of Sirius's mother's youngest brother… _

_Walburga's other brother was Sirius's 'Uncle Alphard', whom, to her knowledge didn't have any sons. _

_Sirius's father had a sister who married a Prewett. _

_Neither of Molly Weasley's brothers had married nor been killed by Regulus Black._

_Where the hell did this cousin come from?_

_And again, what on earth did all of this have to do with _her!?

Harry, meanwhile, was doing his own thinking. This had nothing to do with the Blacks' twisted genealogy, though. _He _was wondering if maybe this conversation would help them figure out if Regulus Arcturus Black had actually destroyed Slytherin's locket. Snape had seemed fairly sure the R.A.B. guy that had switched the Horcrux for a fake one was Sirius's brother and Hermione had said he fitted the profile since Regulus had supposedly been killed trying to desert Voldemort. They didn't have any proof though, and the search in Grimmauld Place had been fruitless.

Tonks, on her part, was busy waving a hand over Andromeda's eyes, which were getting wider and wider with every word the men uttered. She was also hyperventilating, using Remus as support.

Remus, however, was no good as support and he stood unsteadily on his feet, nursing another glass of Ogden's Best as he racked his drunken brain for something to make out of Snape's ranting.

He had the distinct feeling he should know what they were talking about.

Quite suddenly, an over-alcoholized neuron managed to synapse, triggering a memory of something Sirius had said a long, _long_ time ago…

- - -

"My cousin's daughter was born yesterday." A twenty-two year old Sirius Black commented from his spot in front of the fireplace in James's living room.

"She had another one?" Remus inquired, flipping through a Defense against the Dark Arts text.

"No, not Andromeda." Sirius waved a hand in dismissal, and paused slightly before saying, "Antares."

"Oh, he was pretty close to Regulus wasn't him?" James asked with a pensive frown, the snitch he was playing with hovering by his left ear.

"He _was_. You know, _before_." Sirius muttered darkly, not really wanting to get into the subject. His brother joining Voldemort's ranks had been a hard blow for him. "Anyways, he named her Allegra."

"Allegra, huh? Rather pretty. A bit too cheery for a Black, though." James commented with a grin, munching on the last slice of the pizza they were supposed to be _sharing_.

"Yeah, well, it seems Antares isn't your usual Black." Sirius replied but frowned a little. He had never been sure about his cousin. It was hard for him to look past the green badge in his robes. "Anyways, I think 'Allegra' is a lovely name. I wish I had thought about it first."

Both Remus and James stared at their black-haired friend in shock.

"Do my ears fool me? Did Sirius Black just imply he wanted to have a _daughter_?" James chuckled in disbelief.

"You might want to get a steady girlfriend first," Remus was kind to point out with a smirk.

Sirius flushed scarlet and grumbled "Oh, be quiet, you mangy mutts!"

"Pot calling the kettle, I say." James Harold Potter announced.

James Harold Potter came face to face with a rather hard purple pillow.

* * *

_Allegra_... 

_Allegra Black_...

_Allegra **Black**!!!_

* * *

"Oh, **_crap_**," one drunken werewolf croaked. 

A firewhisky shot accompanied the spilled champagne as Remus John Lupin joined Narcissa Delphina Malfoy on the ground.

The crowd clapped in amusement.

-

_**TBC**_

* * *

_**A/N** : JKR doesn't tell us the Black sister's middle name so I thought some up. Since the Black family is known for naming their kids after the stars, I gave them middle names of constellations,etc. 'Delphinus' is the consetellation that borders Vulpecula, Sagitta, Aquila, Aquarius and Pegasus._

_If you didn't quite get Hermione's reflection on the Blacks' genealogy, check the canon Black Family Tree in the Harry Potter Lexicon. However, keep in mind that I might add some characters, change some names, ages, etc. The Family Tree won't remain canon. Sorry, but it's pretty necessary._

_Now, where did this mysterious cousin come from? Who's Callista? What happened with Regulus? Why does Hermione look like Narcissa's mother? You'll know a bit more every chapter! And you'll be very confused for a while. Yes, yes, I'm evil, I know. But come on, writers are malicious by default. Readers, though, are_ _kind_ _and charitable and enjoy reviewing (wink, wink)._

_Cheers!_

_Gueneviere._


	7. Welcome to the Family

**7**

**WELCOME TO THE FAMILY**

**_A Black Secret_**

* * *

"_Oh, __**crap**__," one drunken werewolf croaked._

_A firewhisky shot accompanied the spilled champagne as Remus John Lupin joined Narcissa Delphina Malfoy on the ground._

_The crowd clapped in amusement._

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks groaned loudly. She was definitely starting to regret asking for an unconventional wedding. 

Oblivious to the mayhem around them, Snape stood on his spot. His jaw set, shoulders squared, black eyes shining fiercely in barely suppressed fury, the Potions Master was quite preoccupied with glaring at the Headmaster. Dumbledore didn't look so happy either.

"He did kill them, it's true," Snape whispered angrily, "but it was a _mistake_. An appalling, horrifying, dreadful, _unforgivable_ mistake… But he _did_ regret it!"

Dumbledore snorted.

Okay, this was getting a little too freaky…

"A _mistake_, you say?!" The old wizard took a deep breath to calm himself. Really, this kind of behavior was most unusual in him, but he always got particularly incensed when Severus defended Antares and his wife's killer.

Albus Dumbledore shook his head tiredly, and placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, "Open your eyes, my boy, even with Allegra alive, Regulus Black remains a murderer."

The potions master stared at him for a second, dark eyes flashing dangerously. "You're right, Albus, he _was_ a murderer," he paused for a second, before continuing in a hushed yet equally vicious tone, "But then so am _I_, and you forgave _me_."

The Headmaster looked away.

"Or have you just been pretending to care so that I will remain your spy?"

Deadly silence ensued among those who had overheard him. It was quite a good thing they were all Order members, Tonks thought. Her '_obliviate'_ was rather hopeless.

Dumbledore raised his head, opening his mouth but uttering no sound.

Of course he had forgiven Severus, but forgiving Regulus was quite another thing. Antares had been like a grandson to him, after all.

Draco stared at the silent Headmaster. If he didn't forgive Professor Snape, then why in the world would he forgive _him_? He _had_ almost killed him after all.

Hermione, noticing Malfoy's shoulders were visibly shaking, sighed deeply and kneeled besides him. She patted his back awkwardly a couple of times. She then transfigured a Remus's broken glass of firewhisky into strong smelling salts and held them under Narcissa's nose to wake her up. An '_enervate'_ wouldn't work since she hadn't lost consciousness magically.

Draco stared at her, white-blond hair messy and mouth agape. '_Malfoys are not to be pitied!_' the little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father's reminded him. But Draco had broken said rule long ago, and accepting pity from Hermione Granger wasn't half as pathetical as accepting it from Moaning Myrtle. Thus, he remained quiet.

Ignoring Ron and Harry's similar shocked-out-of-their-minds expressions, Hermione gave Malfoy a small smile.

"Just don't get used to it," she whispered.

He attempted a smirk, but ended up nodding dumbly. He then turned to his mother, who was slowly regaining waking up.

Tonks, though, decided to allow her husband enjoy his nappy time; he wouldn't appreciate to be woken up to more madness anyways. She conjured a pillow for his head, though, to make him more comfortable.

Then she proceeded to gather her annoyingly long wedding dress and sit on his chest.

Andromeda lay on the ground besides her, staring fixedly at Hermione, but not saying a word.

Meanwhile, the Headmaster had apparently capitulated on his accusations, and both him and the Potions Master seemed to have calmed down a bit.

"… and of course, you were right about her." Albus Dumbledore commented, rubbing his temples tiredly.

Snape scoffed, "of course I was right, I went to _school_ with both Antares and Callista. I was _best friends _with them for Merlin's sake! I think I'm quite capable to recognize their _daughter_!" He claimed, pointing at Hermione quite unsubtly.

The crowd gasped, stared, gawked and showed their shock in diverse manners.

Hermione chose to choke on her own spit and it was Draco's turn to pat her clumsily. He still didn't quite understand what was going on.

Watching the blond comfort his best friend, Harry found out he wasn't bewildered enough not to feel a pang of jealo—

—preoccupation.

For her safety, you see.

"Oh yes, quite capable _indeed_!" Andromeda Tonks cried hoarsely, speaking for the first time, "yet it took you, what, _six years_?"

Snape flushed.

_F-fl-flushed!_

"I was looking for a girl like Callista! A red-haired quidditch player!" He argued back. "Does she _look_ like a red-haired quidditch player to you?!"

The crowd turned to Hermione, who was now just staring at her Professor in utter disbelief. Wizards and witches shook their heads and sent Snape a sympathetic nod.

"Are you sure it's not this one?" Mad-Eye chuckled, pointing at Ginny Weasley, who glared back at the auror.

"I'll have you know, Alastor Moody, that I don't go around stealing people's children!" Molly huffed.

"She certainly has enough of them," Malfoy muttered under his breath.

"No, she doesn't look like Callista at all," Andromeda whispered. She leaned forward to touch Hermione's cheek, and the girl was so shocked that didn't even acknowledge the older woman's touch. "She's so much like her grandmother."

"She does have Callie's dark eyes, though" an awakened Narcissa piped in, scooting closer to Hermione with a dreamy grin on her face. "Mum's were blue," she explained, pointing at her own eyes.

Hermione snapped out her trance and pulled away from the Black sister's, stumbling into Ron, who just sat there, looking terrified. Harry sat down next to his friends, and stared at Dumbledore expectantly, hoping for a sensible explanation.

The old wizard sighed as he met the boy's gaze and continued to rub his temples tiredly. Yes, he would have a whole lot of explaining to do, but he knew there was going to be a whole lot of yelling before the interested parties even considered sitting down to discuss the issue.

"So, she's a Gryffinfor, then?" Andromeda asked, breaking the silence. "That's rather peculiar."

"I _know_," he answered gruffly. "I always looked for Slytherins, I even considered a few Ravenclaws. Then I thought she might have ended up attending Beauxbaton, or something." He shook his head, scowling. "I have no idea how a Black ended up a Gyffindor."

"Sirius was a Gryffindor," Dumbledore reminded him.

"True, but still!" Snape insisted. "She's shown _no _Slytherin traits!"

At this, his students snorted.

"She kidnapped and blackmailed Rita Skeeter," Ron said with a smirk that looked pretty out of place in his face.

"She organized an underground rebellion club and made its integrants sign a binding magical contract," Luna commented dreamily from the crowd's front lines.

"And permanently disfigured Marietta Edgecombe when she betrayed the DA," Neville offered.

"Well…" Draco sent his godfather an apologetic glance, "she did manage to trick Umbridge into believing that 'weapon' bogus…"

"And then lead her to a trap consisting of a giant and a herd of angry centaurs!" Ginny cried with a happy sigh.

"And she did tell me the whole Department of Mysteries' fiasco could be an ambush…" Harry said, smiling sadly at his best friend, who was still gawking at Snape.

Snape flushed for a third time that evening, "well, I _might_ have overlooked some—"

"Overlooked? Overlooked!" Andromeda laughed. "This girl is so _obviously _a Black!"

"Well, of course she is, Andy!" Narcissa snapped at her sister before turning to grin at Hermione. "She's my goddaughter, after all."

Ron and Harry gasped.

Draco choked. He had bullied Granger for six years… his mother was going to kill him.

Hermione remained white-faced, wide-eyed, open-mouthed and silent.

"Well, welcome to the family, then!" Tonks said cheerily, bouncing a bit on Remus, who was just waking up. "You can call me Dora! It's a family thing!"

Silence ensued as the congregation of people stared at Hermione, expecting her to say something.

Something…

Anything, really…

After a couple of seconds, the girl took a mouthful of air, as if she had just run a marathon.

She let out a painful whimper and breathed in again, managing to croak a desolate, fear filled, heart-breaking—

"I-I'm r-related to M-_Malfoy_?"

"Yes, sweetheart, he's your cousin," Andromeda said solemnly.

Harry frowned, if Hermione was Draco's cousin then her father must have been Narcissa's brother, but he was quite certain there wasn't an 'Antares Black' next to the Black sisters in the Grimmauld Place's tapestry.

A lot of things didn't make any sense in this mess.

He was distracted from his line of thought by Hermione, who whimpered again and touched her hair to make sure it hadn't suddenly lost its coloration.

Draco glared at her.

"I feel your pain." Narcissa Malfoy told Hermione, sending her a sympathetic smile. "He's not all bad though," she assured the girl while patting her son's shoulder. "He's half me after all," the blonde grinned.

Hermione couldn't see how that was supposed to be comforting.

Narcissa let out a long-suffering sigh. "Let me tell you, if it weren't for that _damned Lucius Malfoy_—"

The crowd groaned.

-

**_TBC_**

* * *

_**A/N**: answers to Chapter 6's reviews—_

_**yiStHeRuMaLwAySgOne**__: Yeah, I'm afraid I'll confuse you for quite a while. 'The Black family's darkest secret is coming to light' but it'll do so slowly. Hehe. _

_**AsIfIreallyKnow**__: Yeah, a bouncing-on-his-feet Snape would be a particularly funny (yet scary) sight. You'll see why he is so excited about all this mess in the next few chapters. And you'll understand Narcissa's reaction a bit better too. Regarding Harry, well, a jealous Harry is a personal favorite of mine, and there will be quite a significant amount of jealousy running through Harry's and Hermione's not-relationship. Oh, and I'm so excited about the pairings! You'll never guess one of them, but you are certainly welcome to try! It would be fun, and I'm still a few chapters away of introducing them. _

_**The Celtic Amazon**__: That means I'm doing my job right! More surprises to come! _

_**The Gryffindor Drummer**__ : Yeah, you're right I don't actually think authors are malicious by default, but rather a disposition developed to satisfy inner sadistic pleasures. Torturing readers can be very fun. Its payback really, you know. _

_**F75**__: I agree, he's a bit OOC, isn't he? He will be, for a while. The fic borders on parodic humor in some aspects, but it'll become more serious as we go along. _

_**Estora**__: I'm glad you're enjoying him! Lol, that sounded weird, didn't it? _

_**alayneni**__: I'm glad you like the name. 'Allegra' means joy in Italian; the Spanish version is 'Alegría'. It just seemed logical for parents to want to name their daughter something cheerful if she was born into a war. Plus, 'Allegra Black' has a nice ring to it, don't you think? About the allergy medicine… my best friend just told me the same thing a couple of weeks ago, I'm rather annoyed. _

_**Hotkat144**__: I'm glad! _

_**Riceball-san**: Lol, it_ is _wonky! It'll get even wonkier in the next few chapters. Sorry about that, hehe._

_**FreeSpritSprite**__: I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! I love your detailed reviews. _

_**smileenov**__: Thanks! _

_**pstibbons**__: Hermione will be living her parents a call in the next chapter. Many things need to be explained. Who are Hermione's parents? How did she ended up in a muggle family? Why doesn't Hermione's name read 'Allegra Black' on the Marauder's Map? Why didn't the Hogwarts's quill pen her down as 'Allegra Black'? _

_**XxXxJackBlackxXxX**__: I'll try my best to make my updates a little more consistent. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. _

_**Antoinette**: Aw, thanks! I'm flattered. blushes _

_**xoxmwaahxox**__: Thanks!_

_**PLEASE REVIEW!**_


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